


Better Days

by amy_vic



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-09
Updated: 2010-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amy_vic/pseuds/amy_vic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Ari thinks, it's good to be the hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Days

"We have a problem."

"Surely, you have trained agents that can deal with this. Why are you here?" At 5am on a Saturday, no less, Ari thinks. This hour was only kind to him when he had stayed up all night, not when a Federal Agent pounded on the door and refused to go away until he answered.

"I need your help."

Ari raises an eyebrow. "Are you _begging_ me, Agent Gibbs? I would have never thought you the begging type."

Gibbs rests his hands on the doorframe and closes his eyes for a moment, obviously trying to swallow his pride. "Look, I wouldn't be asking if this wasn't an extreme situation, and you know it. Now, stop acting like the cat that ate the canary and let me in, so I can explain what's going on."

Thirty minutes later, Ari was wide awake; that was the upside to Gibbs' showing up on the doorstep before dawn. The downside...

"Let me see if I have this right. Agent Todd has gone undercover in order to gain access and information on this group of men, you think it has gone badly, and you'd like my help to get her out."

Gibbs shakes his head. "No. We know it's gone badly."

"How?"

"They sent us a tape," Gibbs says, withdrawing a small cassette from inside his jacket.

For the first time in many years, Ari feels the slight tug of fear in his chest. It unsettles him in a way he can't explain. "Have you watched it yet?"

"Just once. I had Abby run it to make sure it was real, and that the timestamp was correct."

Ari sits up straighter on the couch and takes a deep breath. "Has...has Caitlin been killed?"

Gibbs is futzing with the VCR remote, and gives him only a quick glance, but Ari knows that he's made a mistake. He might as well have tattooed the words 'I'M IN LOVE WITH CAITLIN TODD' on his forehead.

He's not very bright sometimes. Most of the time, though, his excellent marksmanship and ability to break people's noses in two moves hides this fact.

Yeah, but I bet he has no idea that _Caitlin_ is in love with _me_, he tells himself.

In fact, Ari is sure Kate has never alluded to their relationship; if she had, Gibbs wouldn't be here at 6 in the morning, drinking his second cup of Ari's imported Italian coffee and basically admitting that he's encountered a situation that he can't fix.

He'd pity the other man for being left out of the loop, if it didn't make feel just a tiny bit good inside.

Okay, more than a tiny bit good.

"So...explain to me why you can't just send in your team?"

Gibbs tosses the remote down onto the couch next to Ari. "Work that thing, would you? One of the men is a former Marine who served with me during Desert Storm, and the others happen to be fairly well connected in Baltimore."

Ari nods. "And...?"

"And I can't send McGee into something like this by himself."

Ari nods. "Very well. Let's see what's on this tape."

He presses play, and the tape begins. After a standard title that proclaims the tape to be a copy of official government property, a darkened room fills the screen. It's a basement, Ari realizes after a moment. It's a basement and, down there in the bottom left part of the screen, is Kate's left foot. She's still wearing the black heels that she was wearing the last time Ari saw her in person.

Last Tuesday night.

We were going to have dinner together Tuesday, he thinks. Why the hell's she still wearing her shoes?

In case she gets a chance to stab one of them with a heel, the more rational part of his brain pipes up. She's always joking that wearing heels are murder, and now she wants the chance to prove it.

"She's been in this situation for four days, and you're just now figuring out a plan?" Ari asks, pausing the tape. The camera has shifted, and now both of Kate's legs are visible, right up to the hem of the dress she'd chosen to go with the shoes.

Her skin looks pale on film. There is a cut above her right ankle; the blood stands out against her skin, too bright, and Ari suddenly feels sick.

"How can you tell how long it's been?"

Ari turns his face away from the screen. Gibbs is looking at him, genuinely confused. Clearly, Caitlin made no mention of her plans, he thinks.

"I was with Caitlin while she was getting dressed. That was four-well, five days ago, actually." He looks out the window, sees that the sun is beginning to rise, and curses inwardly.

_She should be here, asleep in our bed, not trapped in some lousy basement._

He turns back to face the TV and presses play again.  
  


*****  
  
  
Four and a half days, and all she has to show for it is a few scrapes on her legs, the beginnings of a black eye from when she tripped coming down the basement steps, and two broken fingers on her left hand. _And they don't matter too much, because I'm right-handed_, Kate thinks.

She hasn't even broken a nail. As far as kidnapping goes, this is a vacation.

Don't be ridiculous, she scolds herself. You've been stuck here in this basement for four days, handcuffed to a steel beam, and sitting on a blanket that, quite possibly, hasn't been washed since you were in law school. By all accounts, they're going to kill you before dinner. This is not a vacation. Now shut up, and concentrate on getting these cuffs off.

Okay, fine, she tells the little voice in her head. But you have to admit, this could be worse.

Kate looks around the basement and agrees with herself that, yes, it could be much worse. Even the actual kidnapping itself had been fairly tame. No one had come up from behind her and thrown a bag over her head, or threatened her with a gun. They didn't even have a knife.

Instead, Charlie had called her cell phone Tuesday afternoon, and asked her to meet him at a coffee shop not far from her house. She'd been in the middle of fixing her hair (again), and hadn't given it any real thought. After all, she reasoned, if they'd figured out that she wasn't really the granddaughter of one of the heads of one of the biggest organized crime Families in New York (and that she really was only 27), then they probably wouldn't have taken her someplace so public in order to kill her, right?

Right. Therefore, she hadn't had the slightest suspicion that Charlie had been following her for the past two days, and that he'd seen her meet with Gibbs on a bench in a park seven blocks from her old office building.

The part that must have really set Charlie off was watching his new girlfriend kiss his old Marine buddy on the cheek as she sat down, and he handed her a cup of coffee.

It's a surprisingly easy cover for the two of them, and they play it well. Kate tries not to read too much into it.

She'd told Ari she had to go out for a short while, and that she'd meet him at the restaurant. Then she put on her coat and walked out the door. As she left, she'd asked him to order red wine, not white.

Hell, the last time she'd been handcuffed...well, the last time she was handcuffed doesn't count, because she'd asked for it.

(Okay, it was more like she'd dropped the cuffs onto the coffee table while they were deciding where to go for dinner that night and said, 'Or we can just skip to the end of the evening,' while unzipping her skirt. However you choose to look at it.)

Thinking about the last time you fucked your boyfriend will not help you get out of this, Kate. You need to focus on _this_, not Ari.

I'm not thinking about the last time I fucked my boyfriend, thankyouverymuch. I'm trying to remember what he told me about the handcuffs before he put them on me. I remember him saying something about a safety latch.

Or was he just going over our safe words again? Damn. I doubt that they'll let me go if I call out 'Butterflies'.

On a positive note, the handcuffs she's currently sporting could be a hell of a lot tighter, and the chain securing them to the ceiling support beam could be shorter.

Another thing that she considers positive it that while she was being recorded (_and Gibbs must have the tape by now, so that means Abby's already working on it_), was that none of the men hit her, cut her, or directly threatened her life. They just turned the camera on, and told her what to say.

After she had stated her full name, birthdate, and both her current and former employer's names, Charlie had shut the tape off, tapped her on the cheek (not too much force behind it, but Kate could tell the intent was there) said 'Thanks, princess," and gone back upstairs, leaving her alone in the darkened room.

She doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not. She isn't sure she wants to know.

There are only three men keeping you in this house, Kate reminds herself. You've seen them all, and you can still hear them messing around upstairs. Try to work up a profile, and it could help you get out of here.

She wipes her hands on her dress, stretches her legs out in front of her, takes a deep breath, and leans back against the cold concrete wall. It's not exactly her chair at work, but it'll do.

The first guy is Charlie. He's white, looks about 40, and has dark hair. At least, he might if it wasn't such a severe buzz cut, Kate thinks. He has a Marine Corps tattoo on his left arm (_that explains the haircut_), and he always covers his face with a bandana when he comes into the basement. Definitely the one in charge; Kate heard one of the others call him by name yesterday, and receive a punch to the face as a result. It's clear he's the one pulling the strings.

One down, two to go. Good. Keep thinking, Katie.

Okay, second guy: He's white, in his early 30's, looks and acts like one of the Gotti boys. (That's pretty stereotypical, Kate thinks, but who cares? I'm the only one around to hear this profile; I'll call him Mr. Snuffalupagus if I want to.) Tries too hard to please Charlie; he reminds Kate of the little dog in the cartoons, the one who always follows the big dog around, jumping at his heels. Nobody's called him by name yet, so I'll just call him John until someone does.

The third man is the one who gives Kate the most hope. His name is Patrick, and if he wasn't too busy getting drunk upstairs with the other two right now, he would remind Kate a little of McGee. He was the one who chained her up, and she caught his eye while he was locking the handcuffs around her wrists; he knew he wasn't tightening them enough. He was also the one who left enough slack in the chain to allow Kate to sit on the floor and still keep her hands resting flat on her knees.

She had watched while he picked up the chain from the corner of the room. He'd kept his back to the other men as he picked it up, coiling it as tight as he could in his hand. From their vantage point, Kate supposes, it really did look like a short chain.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"So, do you have an address for this building yet?" Ari nods toward the television screen. All he can see out of one poorly-covered window just beyond Kate's right shoulder is some dead grass and what looks like a slightly rusted bicycle wheel.

"Abby is going over the tape right now. She'll call me when she knows anything."

"You place a very large amount of trust in her abilities, don't you, Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs gives him a dirty look over the rim of his coffee cup. It's hard to tell if Ari has hit a nerve with the remark. "Abby is extremely good at her job."

Ari keeps his eyes on the screen. Kate is sitting cross-legged now, and her dress obscures everything but her toes. Ari can't see it, but he knows her toenails are blood red.

At least, they were when she was painting them Monday night. Right before you grabbed her ankle to tickle her foot and she complained about smudging the polish. Remember? She said she wanted them to dry completely before she went to bed. She said she was tired of picking sheet thread off of her toes in the morning.

Yes, I remember. I cuffed her ankles to the footboard of the bed, and half an hour later, she didn't remember painting her toenails, let alone that she did them in red.

I _rock_, Ari thinks. But that's not going to help me figure out where Kate is.

"Fuck." Gibbs sits up straight, grabs for the remote and rewinds the tape. He presses play and reaches for his cell phone. "I'll be damned. Where the hell did she pick _that_ up?"

Ari looks over, curious. "Did I miss something?"

Gibbs ignores him, turning away slightly. "Abby, it's me. You're watching Kate's tape? Watch her right hand...is that what I think it is? Good. Hang on, let me write it down."

Ari watches impatiently as Gibbs scrawls in his notebook. He resists the urge to stand up and read over the other man's shoulder.

"Okay, that's what I got, too. Thanks, Abs." Gibbs shuts the phone and turns back to Ari. "We've got the address. She's in Maryland."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
When I get out of here, I promise to take a proper sign language course, Kate thinks. Even if Abby is a much better teacher, and is the reason I now know how curse in four different languages.

Her first instinct had been to use the phonetic alphabet, but she soon realized the flaw in that plan. That flaw being, of course, that once she threw the phrase 'Mike Delta' anywhere into her speech, the game would be up.

So, Kate did the next best thing. She closed her eyes for a moment as they set up the camera, and forced herself to remember how to sign the alphabet, and a few numbers. She made sure to keep her hand tucked tightly down by her side, and tried to make her gestures go unnoticed. Charlie hadn't picked up on it.

_Bet you never learned that in the Corps, did you, you asshole?_

Patrick noticed what she was doing, and never said a word. He just winked at her as he left the room. She's not sure if that's good news or not.

If Abby figures out the message, Kate's going to buy her enough Caf-Pow to last her a month. Maybe two.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"Here."

Ari turns around and watches as Gibbs places a slip of paper on the kitchen counter. "This is the address where Caitlin is being held?"

"Mm-hmm. Listen, I need to get back to the office, so-" Gibbs grabs his jacket off the back of the couch and heads for the door.

Ari is stunned. "That's it? That's all you've got to say?"

Gibbs turns, one hand on the doorknob, and looks him in the eye. "Thanks for the coffee."

Ari blinks. For all his spy-smarts, it takes him nearly a full 30 seconds to realize what the other man is really saying.

_Gibbs is giving you carte blanche to do whatever you need to in order to get Kate out of there safely. You can drop the bodies on his doorstep, and all he'll say is, "No, don't leave them there; you'll get blood all over the mat."_

Ari must have been a 13-year-old girl in a previous life, because he suddenly has the urge to jump up and down, clapping his hands.

Thankfully, the urge passes quickly. Once he's certain it has, Ari nods slowly. "I'll make sure Caitlin gets in touch with you later."

"Which hospital will you take her to? I can meet you there."

Ari thinks for a moment, going over his internal map of D.C. "University. It's the closest to this address."

Gibbs nods, staring down at his car in the parking lot. "So...what, three hours? Maybe three and a half?"

Ari waits until Gibbs looks up at him. "She'll be there in two hours. Probably less."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The first sound Kate hears when she wakes from her doze is unmistakable.

It is the sound of a full magazine being slammed into the butt of a 9-millimeter. She'd recognize that sound anywhere.

Oh, shit, she thinks. They've sobered up and worked out a plan.

Suddenly, a panicked voice cries out. "Oh, fuck, man, don't do that. C'mon, man, just chill, okay?"

It takes Kate a moment to realize that the voice is Charlie's. Footsteps hammer on the floor above her head (there's something familiar about that sound, she thinks), and then voices, too low for Kate to make out the words. The conversation is cut short by the sound of a hand (or fist, more likely) striking flesh.

Charlie speaks immediately, much louder this time; he's begging. "I'm sorry! I didn't know! I swear, I didn't _know_! Please, just don't—"

Kate flinches at the sound of the gunshot half a second before it rings out.

More heavy footsteps, growing quieter as (whoever it is) makes his (_her?_) way throughout the house. Kate doesn't hear anything, but can tell whoever's there is searching room by room, opening doors quickly, and then shutting them as they go.

_Think, Kate! Figure out who it could be, before they come down here and shoot you, too!_

Okay, time out. Take a breath.

_That's good. Now take another. Put your hands in your lap and sit up straight, just like in grade school. Time to think._

Hmmm...well, it isn't Gibbs, because he'd have identified himself before he shot Charlie, right? Tony and McGee would've done the same thing. That's one of the first things they teach you in law enforcement; always identify yourself, loud and clear.

But nobody else knows I'm missing. Nobody else knows I'm here.

After four doors are opened, there is a long pause, and then the sound of a door being kicked in, and splintering off its hinges. Only a startled "Hey!" precedes the gunshot. Kate doesn't flinch.

Then, Kate hears footsteps descending the stairs rapidly. It's Patrick, she sees, and from the look on his face, he just found Charlie.

The heavy footsteps are getting closer to the stairs just as Patrick reaches her. He pulls a key from his pocket and fumbles it, attempting to unlock the cuffs on her wrists.

Footsteps, halfway down the stairs now. Patrick's hands are trembling violently, and he drops the key. Kate looks up and sees a pair of black boots. She recognizes them immediately, and her vision swims for a moment, gray-black and white. She has to blink several times before she can see clearly.

"Get away from her. Now."

Patrick whimpers and falls to his knees, bringing both his hands up to the back of his head. Apparently, his hands will protect his skull against a bullet, should one find him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kate can see the gun being pressed into Patrick's hair. Tears run down his face, and one splashes onto her knee.

Kate opens her mouth to speak, but the word comes out only as a whisper.

The safety is released, and Patrick lets out a pitiful little sob. Kate looks past him, into the eyes of the man behind him. This time, her voice is perfectly clear.

"Don't."

Patrick looks up at her, confused and terrified. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes.

"You're incredibly lucky today," Ari growls as he pulls the man to his feet. He picks up the key from where it dropped, and pushes Patrick away with his free hand. The younger man stumbles backwards and falls.

Ari doesn't look up from unlocking Kate's wrists as he says, "If you attempt to stand up, I will remove your kneecaps without the aid of a weapon. Do not move."

Patrick takes a deep breath, and Kate can hear him snuffling back tears. The sound is slightly faraway, though, because of the blood roaring in her ears. She can't take her eyes of the man in front of her. She still can't believe he's actually here.

Ari helps Kate to her feet, discarding the handcuffs to his side, and wraps his arms around her firmly. Kate fights to keep her breathing steady and not begin to sob with relief.

When Ari unwillingly releases her from his grasp, Kate picks up the handcuffs and walks to where Patrick is cowering. "Patrick," she says, "stand up very slowly, and put your hands on the back of your head."

"That man will shoot me if I do." Patrick whimpers, not moving.

Kate turns to Ari, and shakes her head. He scowls, but re-engages the safety on the weapon in his hand. Patrick flinches at the sound.

Kate turns back, hands on her hips, handcuffs dangling from her hand. "Patrick, stand up. Now. Don't make me ask you again."

When he does, nervously, Kate fastens the handcuffs around his wrists. "Upstairs, Patrick."

He takes a deep breath and moves hesitantly toward the steps. "Are...are you going to kill me?"

Kate sighs. A tiny part of her knows that Ari could have this entire mess cleaned up and looking like nothing ever happened before she got an arrest warrant for Patrick out of the filing cabinet at work.

"No, Patrick, we're not going to kill you," she says as she looks over her shoulder at Ari, who nods. "But, Patrick, you are under arrest for kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment of a federal officer. I'll try to put in a good word for you, but there's really no guarantee with my boss. If you're very lucky, he'll have had plenty of coffee by the time we get there."

As they reach the top of the stairs, Ari brushes past Kate in order to block the view into the kitchen. Kate only walks Patrick out front door, and onto the porch.

They are greeted by the sight of Tony, sitting on the hood of his car. It's parked in the driveway, right behind Ari's motorcycle.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Ari says to him.

"Nice to see you, too. Ari. I didn't think that the three of you can safely fit on that thing-", he jerks a thumb towards Ari's bike, "-so I brought a car."

Ari raises an eyebrow. "And why do you think that my transportation is inadequate?"

"Um, because I've seen you drive that thing, and Kate will never been able to hang on to you like this."

"Kate will be fine, and Kate would appreciate it if you didn't talk about her like she's not standing right here," Kate snaps. Both men look at her, and open their mouths to apologize. Kate holds up her hand. "I didn't mean that, really. I'm just...I've had a shitty day."

Ari touches her hip gently, and Kate nods slightly. She knows he won't apologize out loud; not in front of Tony.

"I'm sorry, Kate, I didn't mean to sound like an asshole. Listen, I'll just take your friend here-" Tony claps Patrick on the shoulder, and the younger man flinches visibly. "-and we'll go back to the office for a chat."

Kate nods again, slowly this time.

Tony takes Patrick by the arm, and leads him a few feet down the lawn. "Sit down for a minute, buddy. And don't think about moving, okay? Kate might be out of it, but she's still a better shot than me."

Patrick nods numbly, and slumps his shoulders.

Tony walks back to Kate, and she surprises the hell out of him by wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "I'm glad you're here, Tony."

"Yeah, well, let's not make a habit of this, okay?" Tony grins, and extracts himself from her grip. He looks up just in time to catch the set of keys Ari tosses him.

"If you scratch it, I'm pouring corn syrup and rice into the gas tank of _your_ bike. Are we clear?" Ari says, with the barest hint of a smile.

Tony nods solemnly. "Absolutely."

Ari keeps a hand on Kate's hip as they walk to the car. As soon as Ari starts the engine, Kate takes a deep breath and then exhales heavily. "God, I'm so tired."

"I know, love. But you'll be home soon, and them you can sleep as long as you need."

Kate nods. "First, I need to take a shower, though. How did you know where to find me?"

He watches her out of the corner of his eye. The curious expression on her face might be cute if it weren't currently being off-set by the delicate purple tinge under her eyes.

"A little bird told me," he says simply.

Kate grins and closes her eyes. "Mm-hmm. Does this little bird drink a lot of coffee?"

"Yes. In fact, he drank the last of that bag we picked up in Italy last month."

Kate doesn't respond, and Ari looks over at her. Her hands are in her lap, right hand cradling the left, and her head is falling back against the seat. She's falling asleep.

Ari drives past the hospital, and heads for their house instead.


End file.
